


Singer of the Sacrificial Wood

by MacandLacy, Titlark



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Demons, Druids, F/M, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24941725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacandLacy/pseuds/MacandLacy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titlark/pseuds/Titlark
Summary: Once upon a time, in the faraway land of Bohemia in the small village of Heatburn, there lived three brothers.  The older ones vowed to keep the youngest safe whatever old danger lies in the Dark Wood.  But their protection can only go so far.  There comes a day when John must face the evil of the world.  Just not the way he expected.
Relationships: John Deacon/Freddie Mercury
Comments: 11
Kudos: 20





	1. Once Upon A Time....

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-write of MacandLacy's story "The Muse." It starts fairly similar, but soon goes in a new direction.
> 
> Co-written by Titlark and MacandLacy.

Brian ran frantically through the woods, pushing his way past branches, screaming out his brother’s name. Dry leaves tangled in his hair and he paid it no mind.

“John!” he called, desperately looking around. “John!” 

He could hear Roger a distance away, also shouting for their brother, as well as all of their house staff and tenants. Everyone was helping, and no one had any idea how this had happened. 

Brian cursed, shaking his head. John knew better than to wander away from the house and yard, and the Dark Wood always scared him. It scared them all. How or why John would have done this was beyond reasoning. But the fact stood; their little brother had gotten lost. 

Brian didn’t know how he could live with himself if anything happened to John. Just the thought made his heart painfully clench.

“John! John, please!”

Their housekeeper, Mrs. Thompson, and her elderly husband Jacob were back at the house in case John reappeared or was found by some of the other searchers. The signal was to be three gunshots in the air. Brian kept praying he would hear the signal soon. The whole village of Heatburn helped. That is, those who dared to search in the Dark Wood this late. It would soon be dark.

Brian shivered and jumped up when something rattled above his head. Just a squirrel. Calm down, just a squirrel...

John needed his night medicine. And it was getting cold. His little brother needed his medicine and a blanket, he needed a warm bath and a fire, he needed -

“Brian!” It was Roger, his loud voice booming through the forest. “I found him! I found John! He’s here! He’s safe!” 

“John!” Brian cried out and his long legs nearly gave out in relief, but he ran towards the call as fast as he could. 

“I found him!” Roger kept screaming. “He’s alright! I found John! He’s alright!” 

Brian pushed his way through a thicket and found Roger sitting by a large tree, cradling their baby brother in his arms. 

“My God, John, baby. What are you doing here? What happened?” Brian stuttered.

Roger managed a smile. “I think he’s alright,” he said, but handed their baby brother over for a doctor’s inspection. Brian sank down to the ground. He was used to John being tiny, smaller, paler and thinner than other five-year-olds but here, in the dark, under a large tree, he somehow saw it again, more glaring and painful. Roger scooped the little child in his arms and handed him over to Brian but kept a hand on his shirt as if he had to touch him to be sure John was there and safe.

“He was sound asleep under the tree,” Roger said shakily as he caressed the child’s cheek. “John, sweetheart, wake up. What happened?” 

John rubbed his eyes as any child would upon being rudely awakened. “There was a kitty,” he mumbled matter-of-factly after a yawn and glanced left and right, as if he hoped to see it somewhere around. 

“Fuck kitty,” Roger muttered. Brian was so concentrated on John that for once he didn’t care about his middle brother’s vocabulary. “What were you….oh, Brian, Brian, he’s bleeding!” 

Roger held their youngest brother’s right hand gently by the wrist, pointing out a cut across the palm. Brian quickly took out a handkerchief for a makeshift bandage and pressed down on his brother’s tiny hand, but even he didn’t think it completely necessary. It was a minor wound and would easily heal with simple care.

“It’s alright,” he said. After a moment, he released pressure and the bandage to confirm his initial assessment. “Already stopped bleeding, actually.” 

John simply must have scratched himself on something. Still, Brian tied the handkerchief around the wound and decided to clean it thoroughly once they got home. 

“Fuck, John, honey, what were you thinking?” Roger was still babbling and pulled his younger brother back into his lap while Brian still looked him over.

“A kitty,” John repeated with another yawn. “He asked me to come follow him. He said it would be alright.”

“You can’t go anywhere near cats, John, you know that,” Brian said kindly, just as he’d done many times before. But tonight’s lecture on the sneezing sickness got significantly shortened, considering Brian was too busy checking John to admonish him properly. He ran his hands up and down tiny arms and legs, convinced he would find something wrong, until he realized that his little brother was in fact healthy and fine. 

“No cats, John,” Roger admonished sternly, repeating their eldest brother’s words. 

“But –” 

“No buts,” Brian said firmly, ignoring everything else but his youngest brother. A cat? Thank God John had not had a breathing attack. 

Roger had the presence of mind to ask a searcher who had joined them to fire the three shots in the air to signal they had found the child. Brian covered John’s ears while the signal was given, and then stood up, holding John firmly on his hip. 

“I think he’s alright,” he told Roger. “But we must get him home quickly.” 

“We have horses just down the path. How the Hell did he get so far?” 

“I have no idea.” Brian followed his blond brother and the other searchers.

“There was a kitty,” John repeated yet again from Roger’s arms, dissatisfied about being taken away. “He said to follow him, and I did until I got too tired. He said you would come and get me. He said not to worry. So, I feel asleep. There were blueberries!” 

“John,” Roger sighed. “What have we told you about leaving the yard?” 

Green eyes blinked in thought, and then looked down. “Not to,” John said quietly. “I’m sorry, Roger. I’m sorry, Brian. I didn’t mean to cause trouble, really, he said it would be alright.” Tears were starting to fill the wide eyes. “I’m stupid.” 

“No, sweetheart, you’re not stupid,” Brian said, gently wiping away the tears. “We were just scared. Please don’t leave the yard again.” 

“I won’t,” John promised solemnly. He felt terrible, sensing his brothers’ worry. 

They reached the horses and Brian quickly mounted his horse and took John so Roger could get on his too. Together, they hurried home. 

Two hours later, John was thoroughly bathed, checked over again, and tucked into Brian’s warm bed. Brian had wrapped John's right hand after cleaning the wound and found a mitten to cover the whole hand in hopes of keeping the bandages clean and dry. He would clean and re-bandage the cut twice a day; it never hurt to be careful with John. Roger finished thanking the staff and neighbors who had joined in the search and came upstairs with a glass of wine for Brian and mug of ale for himself. Brian nodded in thanks as he accepted the glass.

Roger sat beside him on the bed, looking at their baby brother. John hunched a bit under the stare, knowing he’d been naughty boy today.

“Will I get a fairy tale?” John asked sheepishly.

Two older brothers exchanged looks.

“A story,” Roger decided before Brian even opened his mouth. “A short story.”

John grinned and settled more comfortable under the covers. He loved Roger’s stories.

“Many, many, many years ago,” Roger started and ruffled John’s hair, “this world wasn’t such a nice place as we know now. The whole village was ruled by all the kinds of creatures from the forest – bugbears, specters, monsters, witches... and the worst of all, demons.”

John pulled the cover closer to his chin, wide eyed in fear.

“The most powerful demon of all lived here, in the Dark Wood,” Roger continued. “And he was so powerful, that some people got tempted by the riches he offered them, left their families and became his servants.”

“What did he do, Roger?” John peeped.

“All kinds of things,” Roger said. “They say he stole the soul of those foolish enough to believe his promises, and they had no choice but to wander around the forest and catching small children to bring to their master. That’s what he wanted. And sometimes, he did it himself, he lured little boys just like you to get lost in the forest – and then he got them.”

John gasped. “But he-he’s gone, isn’t he, Roger? This was long time ago!”

“Of course, it was, baby,” Roger smiled and ruffled John’s hair. “All the demons and their monsters are gone now. But it’s still dangerous to wander alone in the Dark Wood. You never know.”

“But you and Brian will protect me, won’t you?”

Brian smiled. “Always, baby. We will always protect you. You’re safe.”

John fell asleep soon after that, but the brothers kept sitting at the edge of the bed with no intention of leaving.

“Why the Hell would he wander off like that?” Roger whispered. “He’s never done that before.” 

Brian sighed, shaking his head. “He’s five, Roger, and as good as John is about following rules, he is also a curious boy.” He smiled fondly. “This is nothing compared to the antics you did when you were five.” 

“Excuse me?” Roger protested mildly. 

Brian chuckled, glad to have something to smile about after the events of the day. “Father and Mother used to despair over what to do. Father nearly tied a rope around your waist once to keep you on a leash like a dog.” Roger’s eyes lit up at the words and Brian frowned. “No, we are not putting John on a rope,” Brian said sternly. 

Roger grumbled a bit but then his eyes fell back his little brother. “I don’t know what I would do if we lost him,” he said quietly, suddenly very serious. 

“I don’t either,” Brian said. He finished his drink and then started to pull off his boots and shirt. “All we can do is be diligent and keep him as healthy as possible.” 

“No matter what I may have done, John is different. We have to do anything necessary to keep him safe,” Roger said. 

“We will,” Brian agreed. “I don’t want him to be afraid, but still, he needs to understand how serious it is.” 

Roger paused, biting his lip. “It is serious, isn’t it?” he said quietly, a rather unusual tone for him. “His health.” 

Brian reached over and touched Roger’s arm. “It is,” he said softly. “But it’s no worse than it has been. He is stable; just weak. I think the greatest danger is him getting ill.” 

“We lost mother when I was John’s age,” Roger said stubbornly. “We lost stepmother when he was born, we lost our father a year after that... We can’t lose him as well, I... We can’t. We just can’t.” 

“We will do all we can,” Brian said. “I’m corresponding with all the best doctors I can reach. When I go to Threshold, I’ll talk to all of them in person and search the Royal Library for the best books.” 

“I’m terrified of you leaving, you know,” Roger admitted. 

“You will be fine.” Brian smiled, hiding his own unease. 

Roger was fierce enough to fight monsters for John and never let anything happen to him, though Brian worried that now John’s greatest danger was ending up tied to a rope with Roger at the other end. 

Brian pulled off his shoes and shirt and went to one side of his bed, lying down under the covers, for once not bothering with pajamas. Roger similarly undressed and crawled in on John’s other side. It was something the brothers often did; sharing the large bed with the youngest safely between the adult siblings. Especially since their father’s death there had been many nights where all brothers slept together, starting when baby John was no bigger than a new-born lamb. Sometimes when John was sick and they wanted to be with him, or simply when John had had a nightmare and sought the safety of his oldest brother’s bed they still shared. Now, it was just the three of them remaining family, and Roger and Brian kept John safe. Especially after the events of the day, neither had any plans to let John out of sight for quite some time.

*****

Little did brothers know they were being watched. A little black cat sat silently behind the window, quiet like a ghost. It had been easy to put the child to sleep as they traveled what he judged to be a good distance where they would not soon be found. The moment he touched him he had known immediately their bond was real. It was more than he had hoped for.

Satisfied, the demon disappeared soundlessly back in the woods.


	2. There lived three brothers....

Most everyone in the area of Heatburn knew the family of the three brothers. Their family had lived there for many generations, and all thought well of them. Their house was one of the few made of solid red bricks and though not overly tall, it spread into broadness, creating an air of stability and respect. With this house, its wide garden, stables, farmstead, pond, pastures and fields, the family indeed didn’t have to worry about a lack money or attention from other respectable families from the area round Needlewater hoping to place their daughters in marriage to the brothers.

Brian, the eldest, was known throughout the region as an honest and upright man. He led the estate with firm but kind hand, expecting honest work from all his tenants and giving his best in return. He was also the best healer in the entire area for both humans and animals. He had studied the arts of medicine in Threshold, and though he returned prematurely upon the death of their father, he never stopped searching for any new knowledge, corresponding with doctors all over the country and reading books. He could tend to any injuries or illnesses, and often answered a call from those too poor to afford services of a professional doctor. He was often found conversing with village herbalists and midwives, which was considered a bit inappropriate but quite innocent quirk of an otherwise completely respectable gentleman. 

Roger, the middle brother, was especially sought after by all the potential brides from a great distance. He was exceptionally handsome, cheerful and though having an elder brother, he was presumed a rich man himself. He was Brian’s right hand when it came to managing the estate. He spent his days on horseback or conducting trades and contracts. Roger had never attended university and never left Heatburn for longer than two weeks, but over the years many had realized it was a bad idea to underestimate him in any fashion. 

Both brothers were handsome, educated, financially secure, and naturally the glaring lack of any mistress of the house was a topic of plentiful village gossip. The consensus claimed that perhaps one day they would demure, but not now. The reason, everyone knew, was the youngest brother, John. 

Ten years after their mother passed away from the world, Brian’s and Roger’s father decided to re-marry, choosing a young girl from the village. Lilian was a slender, brown-haired beauty with a smile that shined like a sun and brought a breath of new life to the country house.

Quite literally.

John had been conceived several months after his parents’ wedding. Then he had been born early and sickly, his mother passing away within hours of his birth. Only some miracle had kept the infant alive, a weak and premature thing but red in the face, screaming so loud it could break windows. However, not even a joy from a new son didn’t supress the grief his father felt after losing his young wife. He never recovered and passed away soon after her - leaving Brian and Roger on the verge of adulthood with a baby brother to take care of. 

John had a weak heart, and grew up living a sheltered life, only occasionally travelling into the villages and always with at least one brother by his side. Everyone who knew him considered him to be a lovely young man; such a shame about his poor health. He depended on the medicine Brian prepared daily to help him when he had chest pains or difficulty breathing, and while his mind was strong, he was physically weak. His brothers had tutored him at home, keeping him safe. It was no matter, his brothers insisted firmly, reassuring John when he felt useless or guilty. 

Brian and Roger managed the estate well and the three of them were happy and comfortable in the large family house. Having a keen mind for numbers, John acted as an unofficial secretary for his brothers businesses and oversaw the small household of a housekeeper, maids, cook, and a couple hired hands. All the people considered him as a sort of part of the inventory of Brian’s and Roger’s household. He was simply there and there he’d stay. Everyone knew his health prevented him from ever taking a wife; some privately thought it a miracle that he had lived as long as he had. 

It was a bright, starry night of late spring and the brothers were on their way home from a ball at Needlewater when John, nineteen years old at the time, looked at his brothers and sighed. 

“Why so glum?” Roger asked. They were in a comfortable small carriage, Roger and Brian settled on either side of the youngest, John bundled in a heavy coat and blanket.

“We could have stayed longer,” John said. “I know you were enjoying yourself.” 

Roger grinned, ruffling his brother’s hair. “No need, it’s late.” Indeed, it was dark, the only light coming from the lanterns hooked to the carriage on a moonless night. 

“And cold,” Brian added. He looked to make sure that John was bundled in the extra blanket and quietly regretted they hadn’t taken a closed carriage instead.

John knew what they were both doing; he had dealt with it his entire life. 

“I am alright,” he said flatly. “You should enjoy yourselves more.” He knew he was the reason they had left early; even though he felt fine, Brian didn’t want him in the chill night air, and Roger worried about him getting too tired. 

“Who says we don’t enjoy ourselves?” Roger winked. “I had quite the lovely time.” 

Brian snorted and John had to smile. He was sheltered, not naïve. He knew that Roger was extremely popular with the young debutantes and what kind of favours that brought him.

“That is what I mean,” John protested. “We could have taken horses, just like I suggested, so we could leave at different times. I’m perfectly capable of riding Cesar home.” 

As if hearing his name, the friendly stallion snorted, briefly looking back at the sound of his master’s voice. Roger had purchased the horse when he was just a colt as a gift for John when the younger brother had seen him at a sale and had fallen immediately in love. No one had had any idea that he would grow as big as he did, and Brian and Roger initially worried about letting John ride him once he reached full size. But the horse had always seemed to know to be careful with John, even kneeling down on his front knees to make it easier for John to saddle and mount him. How he had learned the trick was a mystery to all.

“It’s dark.”

“Brian, I know how to both ride a horse and carry a lantern,” John muttered. “You know Cesar wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I swear he is worse than you two.” 

Brian chuckled. “Perhaps so, but still I was more than ready to go home as well.” He meant it was time for John’s night medicine. 

“I’m holding you back,” John argued. 

“What the devil does that mean?” Roger turned to him. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to address this, but John didn’t really care. 

“I know the gossip,” John retorted. “Fathers want you to marry their daughters, but you say no, even if it would be a good thing to do. Is it because of me? Because I will always live with you and any lass who marries you would have to accept a sickly brother by marriage? I’m nothing but a burden” 

“John.” Brian sighed. It was hardly the first time John had talked like this, but it was never easy. “What makes you say that?” 

“Everyone in the shire knows it,” John said. “I’m old enough now to take care of myself. You two should be starting families of your own. You’re not getting any younger, you know. ” 

“What?” Roger gripped John’s shoulder lightly in a mocked indignation. “We’re thirty-five and thirty-two, respectively, so... you’re right, balancing at the edge of our grave. What if I tell you we aspire to follow the example of Mayor Terrence? He’s happy.”

John snorted. The man in question was over sixty years old, bald, fat, and newly married to a girl forty years his junior.

“We have all the family we need,” Roger added softly. “You must know that.” 

“Even if we did wish to marry,” Brian said, “I would never want to marry someone who didn’t love you as much as I.”

Roger was eyeing John carefully. “What brought this on, brother?” he asked seriously. 

“I don’t know,” John looked at the woods, sensing defeat. Something had been pulling at him for some time now, a feeling he couldn’t explain. Even when inside the house, he was feeling a pull toward the woods. A call, like a mysterious song no one could hear. “Maybe I want nieces and nephews,” he joked, taking his attention away from rustling trees, “before your whirligigs get all dry.”

“Our what?” Roger choked on his breath.

“John...,” Brian sighed, putting all the talk of whirligigs firmly aside. “Did someone say something to you?” 

John played with a thread from the heavy blanket. “Just the usual gossip from those who think I must also be feeble-hearing,” he muttered. 

Brian and Roger both looked pissed, but short of turning back and fighting everyone at the ball there was nothing to do about it. John looked at his brothers earnestly. “Please, promise me that I won’t hold you back, ever. Both of you, when you find the right lass, marry her and settle down. Live your lives.” 

“We are not having this discussion,” Brian decided, and he nodded at the coachman to hurry up home. They were late for John’s medicine anyway.

The brothers never really fought, but there was a tension for a few days. Finally, Brian and Roger both quietly put it aside.

John said no more, only grew more distant, spending long hours alone just looking out of the window in the direction of the Dark Wood. He had promised Brian and Roger long ago, after he had been lost as a child, that he would never venture into the woods again without them. He had never been inclined to break that promise, but now it was eerily tempting. John couldn’t explain why, but something had changed, and more changes were about to happen. They had to. He’d explode if they wouldn’t.

One day, John woke up early. Rays of sunshine flooded his whole room in a soft light and breeze from outside waved the curtains. At first, he didn’t realize what exactly woke him in this ungodly hour, but then – it was there. The irresistible pull, the longing and calling to the woods. But this time – he could hear it.

The song.

It was like the wood itself sang it. The melody was irresistibly sweet, yet sadness and grief were laced in every tune. The song purred to his soul, piercing through and swallowing John's entire being from within. John felt his heart beating faster and faster, then crushing and breaking. He had to get closer to fix this, to soothe this, to find... something. To find what? He wasn’t sure, but he knew there was a place for it inside him, a place now black, cold and gaping. He had to fill it.

There was something in the wood, he was certain. There was something John wanted, and he would go and take it, no matter what.

Everyone else in the house was sleeping, so it was easy to quickly dress and sneak out and walk away across the garden, around the pond and into the Dark Wood.

The trees closed behind him and John went on and on, stumbling over roots and bunches of ferns. He felt twigs and leaves getting caught in his hair and coat, and yet, he didn’t think. He couldn’t think, his mind completely entranced. First, he walked. Then he sped up, and more, more and then he ran. He ran like his life depended on it. He ran like he never did but strangely enough, the familiar chest pains and breathlessness didn’t appear.

John felt strong and invincible when finally emerged from the wood on a small clearing.

In the middle there was a man, just standing, playing with a single flower, twirling it right and left.

Black hair was falling around his face creating soft shadows under his cheekbones. Other than the brilliant white of his smile and the red of his lips, he was a perfect blend of browns from his skin to his shabby shirt and trousers. Shabby and poor, but somehow, he wore them like a royal ermine. It felt strange, surreal, that even in a place like this the man didn’t stand out. Like he was just another part of the wood, a wild forest creature.

“Oh...,” John was left speechless for a moment. The spell was slowly fading down and suddenly, he was embarrassed. What was he even doing here? His cheeks burned red. “... good morning?”

The other man smiled, and his dark eyes lit up. “Good morning indeed, darling.”

John stared for a moment. Those black eyes were drilling into his deepest core. He couldn't help but think he'd never seen such dark eyes... with so much light in them. Or did he? He just knew they were beautiful. Otherworldly so.

His breath hitched when he realized he just thought a man “beautiful”.

What was even happening?

“I think... I got lost,” John said quietly. “I... which way is Heatburn? You know, the village?”

“I know of it,” the man nodded. “But I wouldn’t say you’re lost. Perhaps... it’s just the opposite. I found you.”

“That’s not how it works,” John frowned. “You get lost when you don’t know where your home is.”

The man smiled and stepped closer to John, watching him closely. “In that case... I’ll do my best to help you. Because you are, indeed, lost. For now. You can call me Freddie.”

“I’m John,” John bowed slightly as good manners required, but Freddie took his hand instead, pressing a soft kiss on it like his new acquaintance was a noble damsel, not a young man.

“What-“ John immediately pulled the hand back, masking his embarrassment with a giggle. “You’re supposed to bow too, not... this.”

“No?” Freddie tilted his head, pouting. “You’re so full of rules, darling. So... restraining.”

“Rules are meant to be followed,” John said stubbornly, “Brian always... Oh, god, Brian,” he realized and hid his face in his hands, “he must be awake by now, he’ll be so angry, and Roger... what am I doing? They’ll be so mad...”

“They won’t,” Freddie said calmly. “I promise.”

“And who even are you?” John continued his rant, trying to avoid the large, dark eyes. Somehow, they unsettled him, the way nothing and no one ever did before. Instead, he took a glance at Freddie’s clothes. “You’re a vagrant?” he guessed. “Some travelling musician or something? I haven’t seen you around.”

“Oh, I’ve been around, darling, for quite a time,” Freddie assured him. “For those who can see me.”

John nodded, a bit sheepishly. “I guess. I don’t go in the village much. I wish I could but Brian and Roger never let me on my own.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“Sometimes,” John admitted with a sigh, “... it’s suffocating. But that’s how I am, weak, sick, good-for-nothing so – one just needs to accept it and not cry over things that are given, right?”

“And why do you think it’s a given?” Freddie asked quietly. “You’re not weak. In fact... you’re the strongest of all people I’ve ever met. And you will do such great things.”

“Is that a part of the act you do in the village?” John pressed his lips together and drew himself back. He had this conversation with Brian and Roger so many times he felt sick of it. “Magic tricks, cards and palm reading?”

“Your palm I can read,” Freddie said seriously, immune to John’s tone. “There’s a great story in the scar on it. Story to be told very soon.”

John shivered. There was indeed a scar on his hand, after a scratch he’d suffered at the age of five, the last time he wandered away from his brothers. But how could Freddie... Then John recalled the man holding and kissing his hand earlier and... oh, naturally, he touched it then.

“Alright, you’re good,” John folded his arms on his chest, “I give you that. But now I really need to find a way out of the wood. Either with your help or without.”

“Or you can stay here,” Freddie smiled teasingly, “in the wood. With me.”

John raised an eyebrow. “I wish you were as funny as you think you are, Freddie. The world would be a happier place already.”

“I wasn’t joking,” Freddie took John’s hand again, and it send shivers up the boy’s spine. “Why would you go back? To be the weak, sickly little brother good enough only to be locked in his room?”

“Shut up!” John hissed and pulled his hand away. “What do you know?”

“A great deal, darling. More than you realize.”

“I go home now,” John announced and held his head proudly, looking down on Freddie with cold eyes of a young aristocrat. “And yes, I’ll be the weak and sickly brother forever, and gladly, because we’re a family. I love my brothers, no matter how they annoy me, and they love me too. Wherever they are, I go, understood?”

Freddie didn’t answer immediately, lost in thoughts. “If you say so, darling,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’ll show you out from the wood. And when we get there, I think you find out everybody still soundly asleep.”

John nodded, and followed the odd man through the trees. In a short time they arrived at an edge of the woods that John recognized and he frowned a little at how quickly they had found their way back. He must have run in circles, and John winced at the notion. At least he was back home, where he belonged.

“I think you, Sir,” he said formally, bowing again a little to Freddie. Before he could object, Freddie gently took his hand and kissed it yet again, making John blush.

“I will see you soon, darling,” Freddie said with a wink before John could say anything, and with that, he disappeared back into the woods.


End file.
